


sweeter than cake

by eatthatup



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Flirting, Fluff, Food Puns, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatthatup/pseuds/eatthatup
Summary: Ten, pouting just slightly, makes Kun melt instantly. Like heating sugar, near its burning point.





	sweeter than cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adarkalleyway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adarkalleyway/gifts).



> merry christmas everyone!! this is a gift for my friend kai! i hope you enjoy this very much Queen

Kun’s bakery gets rather lonely at times.

Located in a secluded area of Seoul, going unnoticed surrounded by famous and vast stores, falling into the secondhand category—not many people give it a shot. But Kun doesn't mind, wakes up every morning to bake whatever he's in the mood for, and waits for the regular customers to get their breakfast with a hasty thanks and a few coins thrown his way.

(Yukhei tells him he should stop being so nice—as he punches the coffee machine because it isn't working).

During Christmas season, though, it's worse.

As if the bakery is invisible, there's not a soul around. Only old people looking for something to eat after some late holiday shopping, or hungry students in a hurry, fed up with finals. The streets are like a skeleton, stripped of its flesh, the structure of concrete covered in fallen dead-leaves. It’s a sad, dreary scenery.

“I’m making scones today,” Kun comments cheerfully, just as Yukhei walks into the kitchen.

“Scones?”

“ _Skuns_.”

Emitting a fake laugh, he puts on his apron and reaches for the coffee roaster as to turn it on. “You’re funny.”

“We gotta create a positive atmosphere,” he says, and consciously ignores Yukhei’s mocking tone, “or else we’ll just die of sadness.”

“Ok—”

The bell rings, meaning there's a customer, and they both stare at each other with a puzzled expression.

“Isn't it too early?”

Kun just dusts his hands off and heads into the store, checking the clock twice just in case. It's not until around 9 a.m that the usual clients start arriving, so there's a bit of confusion that Kun experiences as he comes upon two strangers standing in the middle of the store.

Young, pretty strangers.

Instantly, his hands begin sweating, and the shorter one approaches the register with a polite smile. Though, Kun notices, there's pure mischief in his eyes.

“Sorry, is it open yet?”

“Yes,” he nods, offering a similar smile. It's a tad more tentative.

The other one, sporting a very washed-out pink hair, proceeds towards the menu hanging by the counter once a confirmation comes out of Kun’s mouth (and Kun doesn't blush at the shorter boy’s gaze lingering on him, no, he's not that weak).

“I’d like a latte and—”

“What's the menu today?” The other cuts him off. Now Kun hears his voice properly, clearer. It's a high-pitched and honey-like one, that strangely reminds him of cake mix.

“Scones,” served with a smile, he says. And then an idea strikes him. “There's a, uh, promo. You get one pastry of your choice for free with whatever drink you buy!”

From the back, Yukhei sends him a wary look.

“Great, we’ll take the scones.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

Pink-haired-stranger springs into action, almost as if to prevent the other boy from speaking, or doing anything, really, considering he glues himself to his side and smiles at Kun. “To go, please.”

“Okay! So two lattes and two scones—”

“He calls them _skuns_ ,” Yukhei pops up behind him, and shamelessly exposes Kun, pointing at his name-tag.

It makes the cute, short one giggle. So Kun unclenches his fist and saves that energy for later.

“ _Xuxi_.”

“Sorry,” now Yukhei glances at the customers and greets them politely, “what size would you like?”

Once the latte boy approaches the counter and they start chatting (because Yukhei is more of a talker than a doer, and he can entertain anyone for hours, even if it’s a discussion about the weather), Kun is left staring idly at the cash register, avoiding the other’s burning gaze. He is sweating, profusely, ridiculously—although it’s winter and weather forecasts call for snow in a few days.

Kun has no reason, really.

Until the boy speaks, directly at him, and his palms are far from clammy (he feels them actually dripping). “Sorry, I don’t drink coffee, could I have a lemon ice tea?”

Mesmerized by his features (pointy nose, cat eyes, an uncountable amount of piercings), Kun takes a few seconds to reply. Or maybe more, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Of course,” a tiny nod, “size?”

“The largest, if possible.”

It’s later, when they are gone, and Kun is two-scones-less, that a strange wave of sadness washes over him. Yukhei, of course, only laughs at him boisterously.

“A _promo_?”

Kun just hopes the rest of the customers don’t notice.

\-   


Not even a week goes by, which would’ve been enough for Kun to maybe forget about the boy with a pretty nose and awful drink choices, before they are back.

Well, not _they_. This time it’s the short stranger alone.

Undoubtedly, Kun starts sweating just from hearing the bell and seeing a flash of black hair.

“Hello!” He welcomes him with what could be considered a strained smile. Or an awkward, lopsided one.

“Hey,” the boy pauses and glances at his pastel-green apron, “Kun.”

There’s a beat that his heart misses. And it forces a shy giggle out of him, that only makes him blush further. Down to his chest, probably, as Kun can already feel his entire face in flames.

Before Kun can look up again and manage to say something, ask what he’s going to order, do his job, the boy is suddenly talking once again. Caramel dripping from his mouth.

“I’m Ten, by the way,” he introduces himself, “is that promo still available?”  


And God, he had almost forgotten about it. “Uh—yes. It’s chocolate cookies today.”

Ten, pouting just slightly, makes Kun melt instantly. Like heating sugar, near its burning point.  “Oh, too bad, I wanted some more _skuns_.”

Now the flush that spreads all across Kun’s body is near scarlet, a dazzling, flaming shade. It’s utter embarrassment but he knows—there’s a newfound feeling making its way into Kun’s brain, perceiving each action differently, each word and look from Ten in a different manner.

(Though he just learned his name. Kun shouldn’t be this infatuated).

"I can check—"

"Don't worry! I like cookies," Ten is quick to interrupt, walking closer to the counter. Or, alternatively, closer to Kun.

"O-okay, so, one chocolate cookie and...?"

Ten contemplates it for a moment, inspecting the menu rigorously (he's absolutely pretending, Kun is aware), and then decides, "one green tea, large."

"It'll be ready soon," he offers a sweet smile and hopes it helps mask his nervousness. Kun is rather a jittery person, constantly worrying about every single situation and detail. But it seems like Ten is now a contributing factor in it.

"Thank you."

Once his order is ready, with Yukhei side-eyeing them and Kun attempting to choose the perfect cookie even though they all appear and taste the same, Ten is considerate enough to ignore Kun's clammy hands and still brush them together as he reaches to grab the small paper bag. A tip, he later notices, is left on the counter, too.

And Kun is undeniably infatuated.

-

It becomes a routine.

Kun doesn't understand how, or why, but he starts looking forward to the sound of that bell more and more every day. Then in the blink of an eye—Ten is in front of him, the usual devilish glint in his eyes along with that luring smile. Sometimes his pink-haired friend joins him, others he's alone. But the fact that they are still choosing Kun's bakery to get their breakfast from is mind-blowing.

Green tea becomes a constant, too.

Apparently, Ten doesn't like anything else because he’s all about the healthy lifestyle. Yet, Kun's pastries prompt him to visit thrice a week. And that's one of the first red flags.

"I've never seen him actually eat anything I've baked, not even those glorious cookies."

"I call them glorious once and now that's their designated name?" Yukhei opts to comment on the cookies matter first. Then he washes his hands and proceeds to do a hands-on-hip pose, imposingly. It's everything but assertive. "And—you're just noticing? That's not even the most remarkable thing!"

Kun frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The guy who's always with him, pink hair, doll face. That's Taeyong," Yukhei starts explaining, though Kun doesn't seem to get the point yet. "I talked to him when they first came in and well, they practice at a dance studio every morning—and it's _pretty far_ from here."

"Wait," again, his brows furrow together almost comically, "what does that mean?"

"That he comes all the way to the store just to see you? And pretends to like your _skuns_ just to get you attention?"

"You're not smart at all. You cannot have come to that conclusion yourself."

"Excuse me?" Yukhei gasps, dramatically, hand on his chest and all. "Well you're right, Taeyong told me."

Now Kun's eyes widen, as if it would help assimilate Yukhei's words. It doesn't make sense—this is not the kind of things that usually happens to Kun. He’s a bad-luck, zero-romance, in-love-with-his-hand-mixer kind of guy.

"And you're telling me _now_?" He lashes out.

"Well, I—just wanted to see you suffer. Or trying to flirt."

"Goodbye," Kun ushers him into the kitchen. The peacefulness and warmth of the bakery contrasting with the cold and gloomy weather outside helps soothe Kun's anxieties pretty successfully.

Still, he ends up baking scones once again, until Yukhei is pestering him to help him close the store.

-

The next morning, Ten is walking through that door, and Kun trembles in anticipation.

"Good morning," is the first thing Ten says to him, before decisively taking a seat on one of the tables facing the window. That’s a change. A variation.

“The usual?” Kun asks, concealing his nerves with a sheepish grin, and behind the counter he dries his hands on his apron a thousand times, yet the dampness remains there.

“Yes. For here.”

It’s a change, not only in _their_ routine, but in Kun’s behaviour as well. He’s clumsier, more awkward, a sweaty mess. When he approaches Ten’s table with his tea in hand and almost trips, staggering slightly, Ten holding his waist in a knee-jerk reaction. When the imprint of Ten’s hand on his hips burns, continues sending tingles all over his body like a teenager with a crush.

It’s a change in Kun’s life, and he gladly welcomes it.

“There’s no promo today?” A teasing tone, it exudes. All of him, his posture, his raised eyebrows, his curvy mouth. Kun can’t help but gulp, and rummage through his brain for a reasonable offer.

“Uh—yes, a piece of any of the cakes you can see in the display fridge, there,” Kun points at the refrigerator, and then glances back at Ten, expecting to find him focused on which cake to choose. Instead, Ten’s gaze is fixed intensely on him.

“What a shame, I wanted something a bit different.”

Kun folds his lips into a thin line.

“Oh, what exactly?” Looking around for the menu, he asks.

“Something sweeter,” Ten replies, sultry voice, a subtle smirk on his lips.

In a way, Kun fears for his own life and the future of Yukhei’s constant teasing if he’s listening (but, surprisingly, there’s no sound coming from the back. And his apron is resting sadly on the counter).

Attempting to muffle his inevitable stutter, Kun giggles, and gulps once again as to keep everything down. “What’s sweeter than cake?”

A pause.

“You.”

He should’ve seen it coming, really. It’s not that Kun is oblivious—rather he doesn’t believe he’s deserving of any kind of praise or affection. Pretty boys like Ten, confident, cocky, self-assured. Everything that Kun isn’t. They are not a constant in Kun’s life.

There are some exceptions, it seems.

Kun’s face bursts into flames, almost literally, a shade of red reassembling molten lava (and this time it’s not the cake) burning down to the tip of his toes, a flushed trail. For a few seconds, more than thirty but surely less than a minute, he remains silent. Taking that single word in, as if it’s difficult to swallow. Like a hard-to-bite cookie.

“I—” it’s all Kun is able to come up with. His throat closes up, and his brain freezes.

“I mean, if I wasn’t clear enough, I’m saying I want _you_ ,” Ten clarifies, “if possible.”

“Do—am I edible?”

So that actually came out of Kun’s mouth. There’s no turning back.

“Depends on the situation, but I’d say yes.”

After standing awkwardly by Ten’s table, still not knowing how to react, he’s getting dragged towards one of the chairs, so Kun takes a seat and immediately stares at his lap. Ten’s eyes are too much to handle.

“So tell me, Kun, when did you start baking?”

Then, it just flows, easily, smoothly. Time, customers, Yukhei spying on them, aren’t a worry anymore. Kun allows his mind to run free, in any direction, and Ten guides him happily. It’s a feeling rather new to him—but Kun knows this time is worth it.

Later (about an hour after, with Ten’s glass empty, as well as the plate where a piece of cheesecake used to be), when Kun is sure Ten will just utter a sweet goodbye and leave him with a heavy heart, Ten corners him after paying.

(Well, he doesn’t _corner_ him, but as Kun turns around and he’s face to face with a smug Ten, there aren’t many exits. And he doesn’t want to, either).

“Y’know, a little bird told me the promo isn’t actually _real_. That you just made it up,” he says, looking up sweetly at Kun through his eyelashes. “You’ve been giving me free food, Kun. That’s not good for your business.”

Clammy would be an understatement, Kun’s hands are sweating buckets. It’s all excitement. Thrill. Feelings that Kun hadn’t experienced before.

“Well, I couldn't let you go without a, uh, gift.”

Ten tuts. “And what do I get now?”

A heavy, electrifying tension blankets them, suddenly. Kun feels goosebumps breaking out across his skin, and Ten’s breath ghosting over his face because of the close proximity only pushes it all down further. There’s a sexual vibe that’s too hard to ignore.

“ _Skuns_?” He jokes. Because that’s all he dares to do.

Although Ten laughs, heartily, joyously, that tension remains weighing down on them. It’s unbearable.

Ten opts to do something about it. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, genuinely, without a single hint of smugness or cockiness.

“Yes.”

Ten tastes like a discovery. Every single type of sweet (but Kun knows it isn’t real. Ten should taste like green tea and protein shakes), like berries and a hint of vanilla. The touch of his lips against Kun’s mouth doesn’t burn, but fits, warmly and nicely. Maybe it’s his homely scent or his trustworthy aura. Or maybe it’s the hand that sneakily makes its way onto the edge of the counter, involuntarily pushing Kun backwards, until his back is less than an inch away from it. (As if Ten is attempting to keep it gentle, to not hurt him. The back of Kun’s mind, though, desires just the opposite).

Getting carried away, on the slide of their mouths, the gleam of Ten’s lips once they break away, the heat once they get back into it—Kun places one hand on the back of Ten’s neck, tentatively, and the other one finds his waist rather quickly. As he sprawls his fingers, burying them in Ten’s silky hair, Ten hums appreciatively. So he massages his scalp lightly and—

Ten nibbles on his bottom lip and pulls. Kun lets out a whine, tiny, at the back of his throat.

“Sorry,” Kun mumbles, cheeks dusted a hot pink.

“Don’t worry,” a swift peck, “you’re cute.”

“You are, too, I’m—”

Pressing tenaciously, Ten’s mouth is back on his. Though before Kun can part his lips, propelled by Ten’s urging tongue, Ten is pulling back.

“Sorry, you still taste like cheesecake.”

-

Kun’s bakery does get lonely, at times.

However, with a pretty boy nagging him every morning and kissing it better later, there’s not much Kun has to worry about.

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ten__ch)!


End file.
